One Final Mission
by BasketweaverJesser
Summary: When Starbug stumbles into a fight with the simulants she is thrown into a timehole where the crew meets Rimmer's long-lost grandmother.
1. one

Acknowledgements

A special thanks goes to my husband for being a great technical advisor, to Grant and Naylor for coming up with the Red Dwarf Universe (and not suing me), to Janine and LuvsRimmer for their useful critique, and Feared-Director for their wonderful and encouraging review.

One Final Mission by Sena Kathryn Schneider  
One

Three million years from earth.

Starbug shook hard as enemy fire hit once more. "1200 g-gooks and closing," David Lister announced. "What's the status on that torpedo bay, Kryten?"

The mechanoid looked away from his tactical instruments. "The garbage missile has been loaded," he replied. "Shall I fire when ready, Sir?"

The ship was racked with another blow.

The Cat's usually well-kempt locks fell into complete disarray. "Yeah," he answered for his mate as he whipped out a hairbrush from nowhere. "MY hair can't take much more of this," he commented as he steered the helm with one hand and tried to brush his long, beautiful locks with the other.

"I have locked onto the target," Arnold Rimmer declared as he looked through the periscope. "Let's hope we can make a dent in the simulants' vessel," he added in a dismal tone.

Before Kryten could follow through, an alert sounded at his post. The mechanoid looked at his console and announced, "We're getting an audio signal from the enemy vessel."

"What could the smeggers want now?" Lister asked in a disgusted tone.

"Perhaps they are looking to negotiate," Rimmer concluded as he absently rubbed at the hologramatic 'H' on his forehead. "Open hailing frequencies, Kryten. I'll handle this."

The mechanoid flipped a switch. There was a wavering sound as the radio locked on the frequency and then opened hail.

"This is your last chance to surrender the humanoid scum," said a very rough-sounding male voice. "Failure to cooperate will result in your immediate deaths."

"You don't scare us, you mechanical moron," Rimmer said while acting brave. "Be prepared to be blasted out of the sky."

The hologram looked at Kryten and gave him the signal to cut the comm.-link.

The mechanoid did so without hesitation.

The simulants fired once more. As the photon blast streaked across space, a small tear in the time/space continuum formed only clicks from its mark.

Kryten fired the compressed garbage torpedo as the Starbug was rocked from the blast. The deployed weapon streaked toward its target, but it abruptly halted when it reached the hole in space.

The quartet watched in horror as the time-hole opened up wider and then swallowed the garbage torpedo whole.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be in the galley hiding in the cupboards. Bye," Rimmer quickly said before he streaked out of the cockpit.

Lister glanced back at the space that the hologram used to occupy and then he shook his head. In the six years that he and his dead bunkmate had been stuck together, Rimmer had made a few subtle changes, but he was still pretty much the same. Before he could ponder it further, the last human's thoughts were distracted by the read-out on the screen before him.

The navigation tools displayed the orange swirling of light covered by a grid. Next to the grid were the numbers that indicated distance and those numbers were decreasing in value.

Lister knew full well that the brakes were on full stop. A look of horror enshrouded his face as he declared in an even more horrifying tone, "We're being drawn in!"

"Sir?" the mechanoid asked, not totally understanding.

The last human gripped the co-pilot controls in full reverse. "The time-hole, Kryten," he clarified. "It's pulling us towards it. We're about to be drawn in."

The Cat looked at his garments. "Orange with orchid and mauve?" he asked in dismay. "I'd rather be dead!"

David Lister glanced at his friend. "It isn't open for debate, Cat," he told him. "Help me steer into the eye of it and let's hope that we can make it through without a scratch."

The Cat put his brush down and gripped the steering column with both hands. "If we don't get out of this alive," he began to announce, "I want you guys to know that I don't give a damn about either of you."

With that, our men entered the eye of the time-hole as they prayed that they didn't crash into whatever was on the other side.


	2. two

Two 

Oct. 23, 2023 

Battersea Park, London

Aurora Janvier Rimmer sat on a park bench patiently waiting for death to greet her.  Her career with the space corps had been brought to a screeching halt and she could no-longer see a reason to live.

All and all Rory's achievements with the company were quite spectacular.  She had married Wilhelm Rimmer just  before she entered the academy and had two children while there, but still the red haired Cajun managed to graduate at the top of her class with the rank of Junior Lt.  

Throughout her brief career she had been decorated with several awards.  Just a year after she left the academy she achieved the rank of Full Lt. and at age twenty-five she had just made the rank of Lt. Commander.  That was just before they discovered the secret that she had been hiding.

When Rory had just made Lieutenant she had a routine check-up.  The physician on the ship she was assigned to discovered cancerous cells hiding in her pancreas.  At that time, he felt that there was no need to alert the CO.  He simply zapped the cancer with radiation, replaced her pancreas and then he let the young Cajun return to her duties.

 A year passed.  That was when the Cajun McClanahan started getting really severe headaches.  She had no idea what the cause was, but she didn't want to chance losing her commission.  On Titan she went to see a private doctor.

During a routine CT scan, it was discovered that there was a bottle-cap-sized tumour in Aurora's left parietal lobe so far into her brain that surgery was not an option.  When she learned the results she was devastated.  If a word of it ever leaked back to the Corps they'd give her the old section eight faster than she could say, 'au ri voire.'  

She decided to tell no-one.  Not even her own husband knew.  She took chemotherapy in secret, remaining under the private physician's care through correspondence.  

What made it all the easier to hide her little secret was the fact that Aurora Rimmer was lucky enough not to lose her long red waves from the treatments that she received.  She managed to function as though nothing was physically wrong with her until they were certain that she was in remission.  It was eleven months after that that she made Lt. Commander.

Everything was peaches and cream for Rory until six weeks afterward.  That was when the Boudain really hit the fan.  The headaches had come back with a vengeance.  She returned to her private doctor and found out that not only had the cancer come back, but now the tumour was the size of ping-pong ball and was on the increase in mass.

The physician offered to take more drastic measures, but the Cajun commander wouldn't hear it.  "It'll be a cold day in hell before I let anyone slice into my head, I guarantee it," she commented. 

Rory managed to go another three weeks in pain before her cancer became apparent to her co-workers.  The were times when she suddenly dropped things when she clearly had a perfect grasp on them seconds before.  She began to slur her speech from time to time and her memory seemed to be fading.

To complicate matters, her temper – which had become well handled since before her academy days – was rising at the drop of a hat again.  That was the thing that embarrassed her the most.  A lady is never supposed to fly off the handle under any circumstances.

The final straw that broke the camel's back was when she reported to her captain.  He had noticed that her performance was slacking considerably and he wanted to talk with her about it.

When the young Lt. Commander entered the CO's office, he noticed that her entire right side dragged. He closely watched each laborious step she took before sitting on the chair in front of his desk.  This was clearly one of her times that he had been hearing complaints about.  After listening to her try to talk, he ordered her to go to the med-lab for some tests.

It took two weeks after the hearing to get back to Reading Borough.  That's where she said goodbye to her two boys, Frank and Aaron.  

That night, as soon as she was sure that everyone was sleeping soundly Rory snuck out of  bed as carefully as possible in order to avoid disturbing her husband. She quietly put on her uniform and then crept downstairs.

While on the ground floor of her husband's ancestral home, Aurora Rimmer grabbed only the things that felt she needed to take with her.  Her wallet, in case a constable stopped her and her Mp3 player, to keep her mind occupied whilst she waited and self-charging batteries to keep it running until death greeted her.

Once she had gathered all her gear, she sat in front of the computer and called up the program needed to make a video message.

"Wilhelm, Mon Cher," she began while holding back tears, "by de time dat you find dis message I shall be long gone.  Don't send un searcher for me, plaît.  De most important t'ing in my life has been taken from me.  I just wish to find a peaceful place and wait for du morte to alleviate  my suffrage.

"Please tell de boys I love dem and dat it was my time.  I only do dis because I d'not want for you or de boys to watch my pain.  I want you to remember me in full healt'.

"I love you," Aurora concluded as she ended the recording.  As she allowed for her tears to finally be released she stepped out the front door.  

Without bothering to grab a jacket to protect her from the cold autumn air, without ever stopping for food, drink or even sleep, Rory embarked on her two-day trek on foot. - The more ragged she ran herself; the sooner death would take her.

When she reached London, the young Lt. Cmdr.  headed straight for Battersea Park.  Satisfied that she had found her place of final rest, the Cajun McClanahan sat down on a bench just meters away from the Thames.

Rory had nodded off into a fitful sleep, but a constable awakened her.  He gently tapped her on the shoulder.

When the young officer was aroused, she removed her Mp3 headset from her ears.

"I'm sorry, Miss," the policeman said apologetically, "but I can't let you sleep here."

The red haired Cajun looked at him and said as though it were nothing at all, "Dat's okay, Ami.  I didn't come here to sleep.  I came here to die."

The cop stared at her blankly, totally confused.

"In my brain dey is a very vicious form of cancer," Rory explained.  "I wait to be released by death from my suffrage and I don't want to be removed from dis spot until den.  D'you understan' what I say t'you?"  She knew that her thick Cajun accent made it extremely difficult for anyone outside of the south-eastern U. S. to understand her and she always made a point to verify.

The constable slowly nodded his head.  "I can let it slide for tonight, Ma'am, but only for tonight," he told her.  "If I find that you're still here tomorrow I'll have to take you to jail for the night.  Is that understood?"

"Oui," she said with a nod.  "T'anks very kindly, petit.  You've done made dis condamnent woman very grateful."

With that, the policeman went back to work with the idea that she would most likely come to her senses and go home before the following dusk.

Five hours from the time that Aurora Rimmer first sat down on the bench, dawn began to break.  The young officer looked upon its reflection in the river Thames as she listened to "What if God Was One of Us" on her old Mp3, hoping for this to be the last sight for her to lay eyes upon in this realm.


	3. three

Three 

The Starbug shook violently as she was forced through the rift in time and space.  It was enough to force poncy-little-wuss-bag-Arnold out of the cupboard and back to his post.

"Do you see the end, yet, Rimmer?" Lister asked while trying to keep a firm grasp on his steering column.

"No," the hologram replied with a dismal tone as he peered through the periscope.

Looks of despair enshrouded the faces of the other crewmembers.

"Hold on a minute," as Rimmer said that, they all perked-up a bit.  "The end of it is just 200 clicks away."

"We shan't be having to endure much more of this, then," Kryten announced in a relieved tone.

The Cat, now fighting tooth and nail to keep his badly mussed hair out of his face said, "I hope there's a hair-salon on the other side.  It's gonna take an army to put my hair back together again."

Starbug reached the exit.  The equilibrium that she had gained from being in the time/space anomaly forced her hurtling toward Earth at an alarming rate.

The Cat and Lister struggled to straighten her out, but they only had a little bit of success.  The Starbug was caught the Earth's gravitational pull.

Lister let go of his controls and grabbed an in-flight magazine as he said, "Quick!  Lets brace ourselves for the crash and start reading."  

This might seem puzzling so the author is going to break it down for the readers to understand.  Getting behind your seat – unless you're a moron – is pretty easy to figure out so it shouldn't have to be explained.  Reading the in-flight is so that you wind up so bored that when you impact you'll be so well relaxed that you won't sustain severe injury.

The other shipmates got behind their chairs and then Lister started to read aloud, "Mozambique is an impoverished country located on the South African cost.  Its official language is Portuguese…"

Rory's thoughts were of her father, Aaron McClanahan and her mother, Yeulé Hébert.  Her daddy was from Edinburgh, Scotland and he had a strong military background, whereas her mother was from Lake Charles, Louisiana.  

They were both from very different parts of the globe, but they really weren't all that different.  They were both old money, and both were very devastated to learn that they would soon have to bury their only little girl.

The autumn wind began to whip at Aurora's loosely curled pigtails.  She fought the urge to wrap her arms around herself for warmth by sliding her Harry-Potter-framed spectacles up the bridge of her nose.  After that, she tightly clasped her hands together, placed them in her lap and then as she recited The Lord's Prayer under her breath.

"…The local wildlife is Mozambique's main tourist attraction," Lister continued.  "Once hunted for their pelts, the only shooting that is done, now is with cameras.  Just remember to remove the lens–"

Starbug shook hard as she landed with a splash, with her nose first into the river.  The back end fell onto dry ground; on it's feet, straightening her out.

About 50 yards away from the crash-site, Aurora Rimmer's tiny frame sat straight up on her bench in awe as she looked upon the vessel.  She noticed the JMC logo on the side of the ship. _'Somebody done stole demself a ship from the company,' _she thought to herself, almost uncaringly.  In ordinary circumstances, Lt. Cmdr. Aurora Janvier Rimmer would have jumped to attention and alerted the proper authorities, but in her opinion the company had discarded her like used toilet paper.  The Space Corps could go to hell, as far as she was concerned and there wasn't a snowflake's chance in hell that this Cajun bird would sing to them.  Convinced that nothing truly was the matter, Rory relaxed her weary body back into her seat.

Inside the Starbug, Lister stood up and dusted himself off as he looked around the cockpit.  Strangely enough, there was very little debris around them.  The only real evidence that they had just crash-landed that he could seem to find was the soreness in his left wrist.  He gingerly massaged it as to see if he could convince the slight pain to leave him.

"Damage report, Kryten," the unscathed hard-light hologram ordered.

The mechanoid – who had a small dent on the left temple of his oddly shaped head – looked at a panel on his left side.  "We have sustained minor hull damage to the port bow where we took impact from touchdown, Sir," he replied.  "Other than that – astoundingly enough – it would seem that we are unharmed."

"Speak for yourself," the Cat said as he pulled back his now very unruly hair.  "If anyone needs me I'll be in my quarters doing damage repair," he said as he left the cockpit.

Satisfied that the pain had died down, Lister stopped massaging his wrist and looked at Kryten.  "Now the question is, 'where the smeggin' hell are we?'"

"Not just 'Where are we?' but 'When are we?' Sir," the mechanoid countered as he continued looking at read-outs.  "Our instruments indicate that there are active broadcast frequencies.  Perhaps an attempt to scan them will provide some answers as to where and when we are."

"On screen," Rimmer ordered.

The service mechanoid tapped some buttons and then flipped a switch.  The monitor at the hologram's station flickered to life.

"_This is BBC world news,"_ announced a newsreader in his mid-thirties.  _"On this day, October the twenty-third, twenty-twenty-three, The Terra-Forming on Io has been declared a success, an assassination attempt has been made on the United States president, and the self-proclaimed King of Pop Michael Jackson makes an appearance at a London children's hospital.  I'm Jason Worthington and I will go over these headlines in more detail after this."_

The station switched over to an advert for toothpaste.  Kryten switched the comm.-link off.

Lister looked at the mechanoid with an expression of ambivalence.  His hopes had been raised and then dashed in the same moment.  Sure, he was back on earth as he has always wanted, but (once again) in the wrong bloody timeline.  He swallowed at the lump in his throat as he was about to say something he totally dreaded.

"I'd say that that gives us a fair idea of where and when we are.  Now the question is, 'Can we get back?'  How bad is the hull damage?"

As the mechanoid went over what was needed to repair the nose-end of the Starbug, Rimmer became immersed in thought.  There was something important to him about October two thousand and twenty-three and he couldn't remember what it was for the death of him.  It was something to do with the date two days before today – of that much he was certain – but try as he might, he just couldn't recollect what it was and being that he was usually impeccable about remembering historical events that bothered him.

The hologram shook his head in dismay.

Kryten abruptly stopped his conversation with Dave and looked at him.  "Is something wrong, Mister Arnold, Sir?" he asked.

"I know that there is something terribly important about the time we are in, but I'm just not certain as to why."

"Rimmer, I didn't know that the smegheads held a convention in the time before you were born," Lister commented in mock surprise.

"Oh ha-ha-tee-hee-hawdle," the hologram retorted.  "At least I don't eat my own toenail clippings like some gerbil-faced gimp I know, smeg-for-brains."

Lister shook his head at the hard-light hologram and the he turned to Kryten.  "Perhaps we should go outside and scout around a bit before we set to work on the hull," he said.

"An excellent suggestion, Sir," agreed the mechanoid.  "That should help us determine our precise location."

Lister turned his attention to his dead bunkmate.  "Hey, Rimmer, you coming with?" he asked.

The hologram shook his head and said, "I have far better things to do than be seen with the likes of you at this time."

"Fine, then.  Suit yourself," Lister replied whilst shaking his head.  "We'll take a radio with us in case you need to call."

With that, Lister and Kryten went outside.


	4. four

Four 

Aurora Rimmer had begun ignoring the Starbug unit by the time the mechanoid and David had decided to step outside and have look at their surroundings.  She was quite content to just close her eyes and sing along with whatever song the random play function had selected on her Mp3 unit.  The problem with that was that her wonderful voice was very good for attracting attention.

As Lister's feet came off of the outside step and onto the grass he noticed the voice of a woman singing in the distance.  He looked in the direction that it was coming from to find a tiny red-haired woman wearing what appeared to be an old Jupiter Mining Company officer's uniform.

"Hey, Kryten," the unwashed space bum hailed.

"Yes, Mister David?"

"Do you see that woman over there?" Lister pointed to the woman on the bench next to the peace-pavilion.

"Yes, Sir," the mechanoid replied, wondering why anyone would be out here this early on an autumn morning without a sweater on.

"Let's ask her where we are," David said as he started to head in her direction.

As the two men approached the redhead they could hear the dreadful lyrics she sang with more clarity.  

"What is that garbage?" Lister asked in disgust.

"Sir?" Kryten asked to verify.

"That…song for lack of a better word."

"That's 'Crawlin' by Linkin Park, Sir.  The song was in the top ten in the year 2002.  Apparently she prefers listening to oldies."

When the two men were up close to the red-haired officer, Lister could swear that there was something strangely familiar about her.  He brushed that idea aside, thinking that he may have seen a glimpse of her in some old news clipping in history class.  He sat down next her to try and catch her attention.

Get her attention, it did!  Before he could open his mouth to say anything, Rory took off her headset and gave him an evil look that was spine-chillingly familiar.

"Pardon moi, Squire," the Cajun began.  "I have chosen dis bench for my place of final restin' and I would be much appreciative if you would sit some place else, plaît."

This had Lister completely dumbstruck.  If he wasn't convinced before he was certain of it then.  There was definitely something very familiar about this woman, he just couldn't quite place his finger on it!

Noticing that this stranger hadn't budged, Aurora Rimmer was hit by a full adrenaline rush.  Not caring if the man understood her or not she removed her glasses stood up and then started yelling.  "Eyet, Squire, I done axed you, now I'm gon' tell you.  Stan' up, Smeg-Fo'-BraÎn."

Dave watched, completely stupefied as the officer rattled off in what sounded like French while she removed her belt and wrapped it around her left hand.  She was well built, but also she was so short that it was possible that she had stuffed her shoes with tissues in order to meet the minimal height requirement for the Space Corps.  Even if she weren't a woman, there was no way that he'd fight the little pipsqueak.

Making a fist with the wrapped hand, she pounded it into her open right palm.  "I done tol' you stan' up already, Ami," she growled.  "Now stan' up."

Shaking his head, Lister didn't budge.

"Fine, Squire.  Stan' up, sit down.  Eeder way dey gon' need to call an ambulance when I'm t'rough witch you."

Lister stood up.

"Now dat bedder," Rory said before she opened the fight with a left cross to her opponent's temple.

To David's surprise the force was so strong he was knocked back down onto the bench.  Dazed, he looked up at his assailant.  That was when he noticed the nametag on her uniform.  _"Rimmer, A. J. Lt. Cmdr."_  That was a letter combination that didn't belong together, in his mind, but it did explain why the broad was so smeggin' familiar.

As soon as her unwanted company stood back up Rory laid the inside of her right boot to the corner of his mouth.

This time Lister was better prepared.  He managed to stand his ground, but just barely as she dealt each blow.

Seeing that his companion was in definitely trouble in spite of his undersized opponent, Kryten snuck up from behind and tapped the tiny redhead on the shoulder.

Rory turned to him and said, "Go 'way o' you nex', Pal."

That was distraction enough for Lister to take off running back to Starbug.  She may have been kicking the tar out of him, but he didn't feel right fighting her.  She was tiny enough that he feared she would snap like a twig.

"Ge' back here, Squire!" he heard the woman call to him.  "I'm non ye' done witch you, you Nancy le grande!"

Rory turned to where the mechanoid was standing only to find that he had vanished as well.  That was when her lack of nourishment began to hit her hard.  With her entire body shaking heavily, she sat back down.


	5. five

Five 

As soon as they were safely in the cockpit David looked at the android.  "Did you catch the name on her uniform, Kryten?" he asked.

"Indeed I did, Sir," he replied as he sat behind a keypad and started typing.  "Lieutenant Commander A. J. Rimmer.  I'll check the Starbug's database and see what comes up."

"And was that French she was speaking?" Lister asked in surprised tone.

"As a matter of fact it was.  Cajun dialect, I believe, Sir."  The mechanoid pointed to the monitor.  "There you have it, Mister Lister.  Lt. Cmdr. Aurora Janvier Rimmer.  Name at birth: Aurora Janvier McClanahan.  Date of birth: January 12, 1998—"

"Place of birth: Baton Rouge, Louisiana, U.S.A." Rimmer said.

Completely startled, the two men looked at the cabin door.  "Do you recognise this woman?" Lister asked as he pointed to the screen.

Rimmer gave a nod as he said, "That's me grandmother, you gimboid.  What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well you're psychopath grandmother just tried to pick a fight with me," Lister said as he took a handkerchief to the blood that was slowly dripping from the corner of his mouth.  "If Kryten wasn't there to distract her, I'd have probably found meself in the emergency room."

"Always a bit of wildflower, she was," Rimmer said with pride.  "She graduated at the top of her class at the academy.  She made Lieutenant Commander just a few short weeks before she…" Rimmer trailed off as it finally came to him why October of 2023 was so important.

"Before she what, Sir?" Kryten pressed.

Rimmer ran his fingers through his tightly curled brown locks as he let out a sigh.  "She disappeared two days before today," he explained.  "The only trace she left behind was a video-recorded suicide note."

Lister looked at the Cajun officer's stats on the screen.  "It says here that she was medically discharged," he said.

Rimmer nodded hiss confirmation.  "My grandmother was diagnosed with a fatal form of cancer.  When the company discharged her she felt that there was no-longer a reason for her to live."

"That explains why she kept saying over and over again that she had come here to die, Sir," Kryten told.

The hologram perked up a bit as he showed a side of him that was rarely seen.  "Is she really out there?" he asked.

"I've got the cut lip and black eye if you want proof," Lister told him.


	6. six

Six 

Rory sat on the bench with her legs folded as she watched the goof she had beaten up and two other guys coming her way.  The trio stopped right in front of her.

The Cajun McClanahan removed her headset.  "Back for more, Ami?" she asked calmly.

"No," Lister replied shaking his head while his dead bunkmate sat down next to her.  "We'd like to talk peacefully if we could, please."

In seeing the two side by side, it was clear to Kryten and Lister that they were definitely related.  Aurora Rimmer was much prettier than her grandson.  Her cheekbones were much higher, her eyes were more almond-shaped and of course her hair was much redder in colour, but there was definitely a resemblance between the pair.

Rory looked at the man who sat next  to her in shock.  "Excuse me, Petit," she said to him.  "Have we done met befo'?  You sho' do look familiar, non?

The hologram quietly shook his head in reply.

"What's your name, Cher?"

"My name is Rimmer," he replied.  "Arnold Rimmer."

Rory Jumped back with a start as she heard him.  "Dis a joke, right?" she asked while shaking her head.  "Rimmer's my name.  I took it when I marié."

Arnold shook his head.  "No," he told her.  "I am who I say I am.  My name is Arnold Judas Rimmer.  My father's name is Aaron.  I am your grandson."

Shaking her head Aurora Rimmer stood up abruptly.  "Je halluciner, oui," she declared.  "The cancer done gone to de sanity part of my brain.  T. Aaron is five years old.  You cain't be my grandson.  Go t' bed!  Je ne croire-pas possibles, ça ! Qui-non!"

Kryten put a plastic hand on her shoulder.  "Ma'am, I realise that this is a bit hard for one to swallow," he said, "but we were sucked into a time-hole just before we crashed here.  We have come here from the future, Mrs. Rimmer.  This man truly is your grandson."

With tear-streaked eyes the red haired Cajun looked at the man who claimed to be her grandson.  She didn't know what to think at that point.  _'Should I believe him?'_ she thought to herself as she examined the tall hologram from head to foot.  

"You look a lot like my daddy did when he was younger," the Cajun acknowledged after a moment.  "If dat's not evident enough I know not what is."

She reached over to put a hand on his shoulder, but then her hand stopped just millimetres away from him.  "You're a hologram," she said in a surprised tone as she pointed to the "H" on his forehead.

To the redhead's surprise, Arnold took her hand into his while he nodded his confirmation.  "I'm a hard-light hologram," he told her.  "I am able to touch things."

Aurora closed her eyes as the numbness began to return to her right side once more.  "You know why fate done brought you here?" she slowly asked as she reopened just her left eye.

Rimmer shook his head.

"So I'm not robbed of knowing my grandson," the Cajun stated before wrapping her left arm around him."


	7. seven

Seven 

Rimmer carried his tiny grandmother to med-lab of Starbug.  In watching her try to function with only the left half of her body working the three men decided that it would be best not to leave her.

"Dis wa tret Grand-mère, petit?" she tried to protest as he placed her on the examining table for Kryten to have a look at her.  "Je ne désirer-pas suffrage ne-plus, non."

"We won't let you suffer, Madame," the mechanoid told her.  "Just hold still so I can examine you."

"Examiner non," she said weakly.  "Done wid examiner."

"How did she make it through the academy?" Lister asked.  "She can scarcely speak English."

"That's just the way Cajuns speak," Kryten explained as he tried to run the medi-comp's scanner over a squirming red-head.  "Whenever they speak French they throw in a few English words and vice-versa.  In all actuality she's a master of two languages, Sir."

David Lister shook his head.  "But has she mastered them enough to tell the difference between them?" he asked no one in particular.

The mechanoid checked the read-out on the monitor and a concerned look coalesced on his face.  "When was the last time you ate or drank anything, Madame?" he asked.

"None yo' binness," she replied defensively.

The mechanoid look at the hologram and said, "Her electrolytes are extremely low.  Not only that, she is severely dehydrated.  It is my guess that her chosen method of death is deprivation of food and drink, Sirs."

The hologram shook his head as he looked at his grandmother.  "Why couldn't you just slash your wrists and have done with it?" he asked her.

Rory grabbed his tunic and then pulled him closer to her.  "Ç'est les chickenshit way out," she whispered to him.  "If you end your life, do it proper, non?"

Rimmer nodded in agreement with her.

Aurora let go of her grandson, satisfied that she'd gotten the point across to him.

"Kryten, a word with you please," the hologram ordered.

The two men stepped away from the Cajun.  Rimmer huddled up to the mechanoid for he was about to suggest something that he was sure his grandmother wouldn't like.  "I want you to start an IV on her," he told him.  "Anything to keep her alive for now."

"Sir," Kryten protested.  "She has a brain tumour the size of a golf-ball.  Wouldn't it be best to just let her end her suffering if she so chooses?"

Shaking his head he said, "The woman most possibly has the greatest mind in my entire family, past or present.  Throughout the years I have often found myself wondering what it would be like to have known her.  Now that I have the chance to find out I will not pass it by.  Is that understood, you rubber-headed gimp?"

The mechanoid nodded and said, "I'll do what I can, Sir."

Rimmer looked into Kryten's eyes as he said, "You have no idea what this means to me."


	8. eight

Eight 

Rory ripped out the catheter from her right arm as soon as Kryten had let go of her.  "J'em fin avec suffrage!" she weakly tried to yell.  "Why will you not leave me alone?!"

"Rimmer, I understand why you feel you have to do this," Lister said, "but wouldn't it be easier if we just respected her wishes, now?  She's as pigheaded as you are."

The hologram shot the unwashed space-bum a dirty look similar to the one Rory gave him before she pounded into him.  Shaking his head he said, "Me mind is made up.  If you were given the chance to know your gimboid parents, I'm sure you'd jump at it."

"Now that's different," Lister protested.  "My parents weren't part of your clan."

The hologram shook his head once more as he came up with a surprisingly snappy come back.  "Well it is my guess that it is safe to say that you have no way of knowing, you goit."

Lister just shook his head at him as he absently played with his dread-locks.

"Might I make a suggestion, Sirs?" Kryten asked.

"Go ahead," Dave said.

"It's just an observation, really, but here goes.  Mister Arnold said that it was when she was discharged from the company that she lost her reason to live.  Correct?"

Rimmer nodded and said, "That I did."

"Well perhaps Madame would be more willing to co-operate with what we're trying to do here if we were to offer for her to join us.  You know?  Give her a reason to live again as it were."

A look of fright coalesced on Lister's face as he saw what the outcome might be.  "Oh, no you don't!" he protested as he shook his head.  "One Rimmer is bad enough, Man.  With her around I'll be double-teamed."

"May I point out, Sir, that Miss Rory doesn't have very long to live," the mechanoid told him.  "She only has a few weeks at most, and that's _if_ we manage to convince her to start caring for herself again."

David Lister gave it careful, close consideration before he finally gave his answer.  "Okay," he relented, "but if that little redheaded pipsqueak takes one more swing at me I'll play me guitar indoors for as long as I like and as loud as I like. I swear it."

A look of disgust formed on Rimmer's face briefly.  "Fair enough," he agreed with a nod.

"Now all that we have to do is get the Cat to agree to it and then we'll be all set, Sirs," the mechanoid said joyously as he realised that he might soon have one more person to care for.


	9. nine

Nine 

"You want me to do what?!" the Cat asked disdainfully as he placed the last stray hair where it belonged.

"Please, Cat," Lister, pressed.  "Just agree that we should invite her to stay with us."

"Now why do we need two Rimmers for, anyhow?"

"Well for one thing," Dave explained, "Aurora is nothing like Rimmer.  In fact she's the one who did this to my eye," he pointed to the nicely formed shiner that he had acquired during his first encounter.  "We could really use a psychopath like her when we get back to our time so we can face the simulants again."

"Does she have the same fashion-sense that Goal-Post-Head has?"

Lister shook his head and said, "Don't know.  The only thing I've seen her wear thus far is the uniform for the time period.  She could have other clothes that she prefers so I really can't tell you."

The Cat shook his head.  It was obvious that that was not what he cared about.  "Does she look anything like him?" he asked.

Lister hesitated.

"Well?" pressed the Cat.

"She has an awful lot of red hair," David said.

"And?"

"She's definitely a sight prettier."

"Now this I gotta see," declared the Cat in disbelief.


	10. ten

Ten 

"Go to bed!  Non way!" Rory said as she shook her head in disbelief.  "De company will ne'er take me back.  J'em diseased."

"The company no-longer exists in our time," Lister told her.  "You see I was put in suspended-animation-stasis for three million years.  When I got out everyone was gone."

"Why you in stasis fo' t'ree million years?'

David shrugged.  "Long story," he said.  "You see I was put in stasis for bringing a pregnant cat on board.  When I got out I learned that there had been a radiation leak, due to a faulty drive-plate.  Our ship's computer, Holy kept me in there until he was sure that the radiation had cleared."

"So you want me to Join yo' group?" asked the Cajun.

"If you would, Madame," Kryten added.

"What functions I would provide for you?"

"You would be our commanding officer, Grand-mere," Rimmer announced.  "You would be in control of all that needs to be done around here."

Rory shook her head in disgust at what she just heard.  "I have non idea that my progeny would become such imbeciles," she declared.  "De company exists non mo'!  Rank has non relevance.  What real functions I will serve?"

"We need whatever part of your mind is left until your cancer takes you," Lister stated.  "Your service record says that your hobbies lie in defence.  There are times when we need a tactician and we were wondering if you'd be interested."

"And what durin' peace-time?" she asked.  "Shall I stay in a closet an' wait fo' skirmishes?  Now dat sound excitin', yeah.  Where d'I sign-up?"

Lister's eyes rolled back. Shaking his head he could see where Rimmer's sarcasm came from.  

"There are better things to do besides just wait around, Ma'am," Kryten pressed.  "Your service record states that you're a top-notch technician.  Now although Mister Lister has been able to hold us together okay, we still have much to be desired for repairs around here.  Now what do you have to say to that?"

Aurora Rimmer pursed her lips in the same manner that her grandson does whenever he mills over something.  After giving forth some thought she asked, "I may have a drink of water?"

"Of course, Madame," Kryten replied joyously.  "I'll get it for you right away."  With that he took off.

"So this means you're going to stay, then?" Lister asked.

Rory looked at him and gave a quiet nod.

"Do you have any other outfits besides your uniform or do you live in it like Brillo-Pad-Hair over there?" asked the feline, who had been standing in the corner looking at himself in his hand-mirror.

The Cajun gave a smile as she shook her head and said, "I wear dis here uniform, my good sir.  It d'not wear me."

With relieved expressions, Lister and the Cat exchanged glances.  It was beginning to come into focus that although Aurora Janvier Rimmer shared a lot of the same traits as her grandson, she may be easier to get along with, so long as you didn't anger her."


	11. eleven

Eleven 

Rory ate her chicken curry very slowly and very carefully.  She hadn't eaten anything in the two days prior and she wanted to make certain that she didn't just ralph it back up.

"How did you wind up here Grand-mère?" Arnold asked her at point-blanc.

The Cajun swallowed the food that she was chewing on before saying as if it were no big deal, "Our creator gave us feet, Cher.  I take pleasure in usin' dem."

"You walked?" Lister asked while sounding surprised.

Aurora nodded.

"From Reading Borough?"

"It's only sixty-seven kilometres," she stated.  "You d'not believe me?"

"We believe you, Ma'am," said the mechanoid.  "It's just that it's not something that we'd expect when one could have more easily hired a taxi service."

Rory shook her head as she said very cryptically, "Signature non."

"Ma'am?"

"I d'not wish pour décor," she explained.

"Ah," the mechanoid said as he nodded his understanding.  "She didn't wish to be discovered, Sirs," he translated for everyone else.

Aurora nodded after taking another mouthful of food.

When his grandmother was finished eating, Rimmer patted her on the back.  "Are you excited to set to work, Grand-mère?" he asked.

Rory nodded as she said, "I'd like clean costumes an' a shower first, but it sho' feel' good to be needed on duty again, yeah."

The hologram nodded in agreement although he could only guess from what she was talking about.


	12. tweelve

Twelve 

"Why does Flared-Nostrils have to come with us, anyhow?" the feline groaned in regards to the hologram as they walked passed some of the local shops.  "He has absolutely no fashion sense at all."

"He's my grandson and I only have un short time left," explained the Cajun.  "If I am to know him I must spend as much time possibles, non?"

The Cat shook his head as though he didn't understand or care.

"What about that one, over there?" Lister asked as he pointed to a clothing store on the corner.

Rory looked at a sign that read, _'Chantelle's Attic.'_  "Dat's as good a place as any," she said in a seemingly uninterested tone.

The four of them entered the store and were assaulted by the sights of every style that ever existed.  There were flare pants, mini-skirts, and fedoras.  Anything that one might think of was in that store.

Aurora's eyes were caught by one item in particular almost immediately after they made their entrance.  "Ó my dieu!" she exclaimed as she picked up a beige tee-shirt.  "Mama had one similar when I was an enfant."

She held it in front of her so that the others could see the print of a woman wearing a camouflage military helmet and the lettering that said, _'Girls With Major Attitude!'_  "I never t'ought I'd see anyt'ing like it again, non," she said with excitement.  "It bring back fond mémoires."

To the men's surprise, the redheaded Cajun took very little time in choosing what she wanted.  She didn't even take the time to try anything on.  She just looked at the size tag and then made her decision.  When she was satisfied that she had enough clothing she was able to pay for everything with the cash that she had in her wallet.

"Hey, why don't you just use your credit card?" Lister asked her.  "It would most likely be a bit quicker."

The redhead gave him a serious expression as she cryptically said once more, "Signature non."

"But why, Grand-mère?" Arnold asked.  "You've already been found.

"By you," she said.  "I don't want to be found by anyone in dis temps.  I would surely be forced to go home an' have my boys watch me slowly degrade into uselessness if found.  Comprend?"

The hologram nodded although he wasn't entirely sure of what was said.

With the purchases made, the quartet left Chantelle's Attic and then headed down the street in the direction that they came.

Heading back Rory took notice of a comic book and hobby store called Frodo's Cave.  "Perhaps y'all should take a gander wid me," she pointed out.

Rimmer was of course all for the idea, but the Cat and Lister shook their heads.

"Aw, c'mon," the Cajun insisted.  "We could poke fun at de Dungeness Et Dragon geeks.  It might/could be a hoot."

Lister and the Cat exchanged glances before they relented.

Inside was the avid gamer's fantasy.  They had Champions, Battle Tech, Marvel Heroes, and of course, D and D.  The first thing that Rory did while there was head for the Battleships at War display.  That's where she immediately picked up a book from the shelf and then started thumbing through the pages.

"Now hold on a minute, Flaming-Hair," the Cat protested.  "You aren't one of them Gaming nerds, are you?"

"Guilty as charged, Mon Ami," she replied as though she were revealing some big, untold secret.  Then she looked at her grandson. "Do you play, Arnold?"

"Actually I—" the hologram began, but Lister threw in some intervention.  

"He's more into Risk and Axis and Allies, those sort of games," said David.

"Dose are good games fo' a beginner," Aurora said.  "You wanna learn dis game, Petit?" 

Arnold nodded his response.

"I will remove your training wheels when we get back to Starbug, yeah.  As soon as we have lift-off." she said as she put the book that she was looking at down and then picked-up the starter –kit.

When the redheaded Rimmer went to get the right dice needed to play a display caught her eye.  She let out a laugh that was very similar to her grandson's as she walked over to the object of her attention.  "Y'all look here, y'all," she said through laughter.

"What is it?" the hologram asked as he stepped beside her.

"I done found me pictures of ass-wipes on ass-wipe," Rory declared as she held out a bog-roll with printed pictures of Hitler, Napoleon, and many other historical terrorist on each square.

"Those are some of the greatest military minds ever to have existed," Arnold protested.

Rory nodded and said, "Oui.  Dat's why dey were all psycho, Cher."

"What do you mean?" Lister asked with genuine interest.

"The brighter flames do burn quicker," Aurora began.  "Wid higher intelligence dey is more to go wrong wid you."

"So you're saying that a higher intellect isn't necessarily better," Dave concluded.

Rory nodded and said, "Exactement," as she picked up a packaged gag toilet roll and then she grabbed two dice sets.

At the register the red haired Cajun began to feel her on-going headache worsen.  She leaned against the counter and began massaging her left temple.

Lister put a hand on her shoulder.  "Rory, are you okay?" he asked.

Not wanting to talk, she just quietly nodded.

"You sure?" the unwashed one pressed.

"I'm fine," insisted the Cajun as she began slurring her words again.  "You need not worry none.  Eyet?"

Lister shook his head in disbelief as he watched her right side begin to droop.  After watching her fumble with her wallet he snatched the bag from the shop-keep's hands.

Lister wasn't the only one who noticed Aurora's distress.  Rimmer picked up his grandmother without saying a word to her and then carried her out of the store.  

She didn't have time to protest.  In another thirty seconds, Rory lost consciousness due to her pain.

Outside, the Cat flagged-down a taxicab.

When they approached the vehicle for hire, the cabbie took a good look at the unconscious Cajun.  "Lemme guess," he said.  "Hospital?"

Lister shook his head and said, "She's already been there.  They can't help her."

"Where to, then?"

"Battersea Park and step on it," Rimmer ordered.


	13. thirteen

Thirteen 

Aurora Rimmer awakened to the sight of Kryten running the med-scan over her.  Her first reaction was to pound it from his grasp.

"Ma'am," protested the mechanoid.  "In order to check your cancer's progress it is important for you to remain still.  Otherwise I won't know the right dosage of painkiller to give you."

"I take non medication, non," she countered as she stood up and backed the poor android into a corner (yes, the tiny Cajun is intimidating enough to do that despite her size).  "Don' t'ink of it non more or I make yo' nose de fillin' of a buttock san'wich. If I'm to help out around here I'm useless half-way comatose.  Comprend?"

"But Miss Rory," Kryten began, "How are you supposed to perform your duties when you're in so much pain that you pass-out all the time.  The idea of giving medication is just to give you enough to dull the pain down a bit.  We want you to be functioning as normally as possible."

There was an uncomfortable air of silence as Aurora let the mechanoid's words sink in.  "Eyet," she finally relented.  "Just understand one t'ing."

"And what would that be, Madame?"

"If once I feel too doped to perform my duties, it's de trash compactor for you.  Got it?"

Kryten swallowed to wash down the dryness in his android throat.  "Yes, ma'am," he finally told her as he realised where the hologram got his ability to sound tough from.  The one and only difference was that he was sure that the short woman meant every word of what she said.


	14. fourteen

Fourteen 

After showering and putting on clean clothes Rory sat down at tactical with a pen and clipboard in hand.  Half her hair was tied in a neat coil at the top her head.  The rest was left in loose spirally red waives which fell to nearly her waist in length.

Lister stepped into the cockpit and took one look at her.  He decided that this was as good a time as any to ask the question that had been gnawing at him since she pounded into him.  "When you enlisted into the Space Corps, did you happen to get your hands on some tissue paper by chance?"

Aurora Rimmer smiled and shook her head and then looked at him.  "Why de hell would I have need to, Listy?" she asked while stifling a laugh.  This wasn't the first time that she had been asked but she thought it fun to play dumb.

"To stuff your shoes with so that you would meet the minimum height requirement."

Rory looked around the room conspiritedly as if to make sure no-one else was around.  When she was certain that she wouldn't be heard she confessed in a hushed tone, "I am exactly five foot widout my shoes, I tell you what."

"The requirement for women is five-foot-two," Lister said in disbelief.  "How did you get passed the medical?"

"My IQ is clocked at 180," the Cajun stated while still holding a low volume.  "Needles to say dat de corps really wanted me.  I got dem to sign a li'l ol' waiver when I enlisted.  Comprend?"

"So you're one of the brighter flames that you talked about earlier," the space bum stated as he nodded in full understanding.

Rory's face gained a dire expression as she saw how he had come to that conclusion.  "Yeah," she replied fatalistically.

Lister made eye contact with her and he saw what he thought was impossible in them: bone-chilling fear.  It only lasted for a second, but it was enough to hit him with an air of intense discomfort.  With a strong distaste in his mouth, the space bum quickly groped for a distraction.

"Hey, what's this," he asked as he pointed to the item of question.

Aurora picked up the clipboard and handed it to him.  "It's a list of t'ings dat need t'be done befo' lift-off," she announced.  "Have a go over, if you will and realise dis: Your aider would be appreciated, but not required.  I'll do it all my damn self if nécessaire.  I cain't sit around waiting to die when dere work dat need t'be done.  Comprend?"

Lister scanned over the list quickly and then handed it back to her.  "Well, Ma'am," he said, "I'd never thought I'd see the day that I'd say this, but…" he saluted her as he continued, "Welcome aboard, Commander Rimmer."

Rory raised a conspirative finger to her lips as she said, "Shhh.  De company exist non more.  Drop de rank, s'il vous plait."

The unwashed one smiled and shook his head.  "I wish your grandson could see it that way," he said to no-one in particular.

The Cajun shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.  "We cain't all be perfect, petit," she stated.  "It would be a dull an' maussade," without stopping she corrected her English so that David could understand her, "boring existence if we were."

David Lister didn't know what to think about the young commander's statement.  In response he just shook his head quietly.


	15. fifteen

Fifteen 

"Eyet, dat make fo'ty-two freeze-dried haggises altogedder," Rory announced.  "Like we gon' eat dem," she quickly added in a sarcastic tone as she made a note of it on her clipboard.

Lister rolled his eyes into the back of his head as he shook his head.  "How much more of this inventory is left?" he asked.

"Y'kiddin' me, right?" she asked him.

The last living male in existence shook his head.  "Rory, we've been at this for three hours already," he protested.

"Nonsense," she countered.  "We'jus' barely getting started."

"Rory, I need a break.  I'm bored!"

The Cajun looked at him very solemnly.  "M'apologie dat you cain't find pleasure in dis work as do I," she said in a low tone.  "But de fact remains dat dis has to be done befo' lift-off.  It is important to know what we have _befo'_ embarkment.  Otherwise, we gon' be fumbling around fo' t'ings dat we don't have.  Vous comprend, non?"

With an annoyed expression on his face, Lister nodded his reply.

That was enough to convince Aurora to consider an alternative.  "I tell you what," she announced.  "I'll let you go if you go find my grandson and send him my way, yeah?  We should be spending what precious-little time I have together beside dat.  

"We do have a deal?" she asked while offering her hand.

The unwashed one took her hand and shook it as he replied, "We do have a deal."

"Très bien, mà friend," the Cajun returned as she withdrew her hand.  "You will tell him where to find me, non?"

"Sure," Dave replied as he headed for the door of the Cargo hold.  As he pressed his palm to the identity plate he told her, "Don't work yourself too hard."  With that, the door opened and then he stepped out.

Shaking her head as the door closed behind him Rory said, "Je ne croire-pas possibles, ça, petit," to no-one in particular.  Then she went on with her work.

After about a minute of silence the Cajun McClanahan began singing to herself.  Being a very musical creature, she can't stand  silence for any amount of time.  The first composition that came to her mind was an old Beatles tune off of the 'Sgt. Pepper's' album and she decided to roll with it: "Being for the Benefit of Mr. K."

The problem with her singing is that it's an excellent means for tuning the world out.  She got so wrapped up in both her work and her song that she didn't hear the hologram enter the room.

Rimmer stepped up behind his grandmother.  "Grand-mère?" he hailed.

With her back still turned to him, Rory continued to sing:

D'Henderson will dance 'n' sang

While Mr. Kite fly t'rough de rang - don' be late!…

Seeing that talking to her was non-productive, Arnold tapped his grandmother on the shoulder.

The tiny Cajun jumped high enough to clear the top of her very tall grandson's head, she was that startled.  When her feet were finally reunited with the floor, she turned around to see the source of her fright.

"Reporting for duty as requested, Ma'am," Rimmer told his grandmother as he gave he his 'Full Rimmer' salute.

"Jesus H. Christ," Rory said through a laugh as she drew a Catholic cross on herself.  "Nearly hit t'rough de roof, I did, yeah."  In very casual manner she shook her head as she added, "Don' do dat again, Cher."

Arnold saluted his grandmother again as he went on the defensive.  "Sorry, Grand-mère," he said apologetically.  "I'll try not to let it happen again, I promise."

The hologram's cowering mannerisms reminded Aurora Rimmer very much of the man she had left behind.  Shaking her head, she patted her grandson on the shoulder.  "Don' beat y'self up over it, Petit," she said while fighting back tears.  "Let's get to work, eyet?"  She then offered him her clipboard.

Rimmer was taken aback by his grandmother's response.  For the first time that he could recall in of his years of life and death, he had a superior who didn't get on his case for being a cowering whiney.  He wanted to hug her for treating him like a human being, but he wasn't entirely sure that it was appropriate.  Instead, he simply gave her an acknowledging nod as he took the clipboard from her.


	16. sixteen

Seventeen 

"If I can have your attention, plaît, I'd like t'say a few words befo' lift-off," she announced.  When the Cajun was certain that everyone's eyes on her she continued.

"Kryten has done tol' me dat in returning to yo' time it is very possible dat we might/could be t'rown into a battle with little o' non possibility of survival.  I have devised a few tricks dat could possibly up de anti in our favour, should our opposition try to board us."

The redhead demonstrated by quickly pulling out a butterfly dagger and with only using one hand, flipping the blade out and then grasping the handle in full-attack mode, all within the blink of an eye.  Satisfied that she had gotten the point across, she refolded her weapon in the same manner.  "I found dis in de munitions cabinet," she explained as she picked up a box-cutter and tossed it to Lister, who caught it in turn.  "Dey are several more where dat came from, an' I'll be handin' dem out before we take off."

David gave the blade his close inspection.  "How is this supposed to defend us from the simulants?" he asked in a baffled tone.  "They have weapons built into their systems."

"We need to have de element of surprise on our side," Rory explained.  "Dat mean we need a concealable weapon wid us.  We can keep bazookoids by our sides, but dey are easily spotted an' we can be boarded an' have 'em confiscated faster den you can blink, I guarantee it."

"What are you proposing that we should do, Ma'am?" Kryten asked thoughtfully.  "Catch them unawares and then slice through their optic cables?"

"Exactement," the Cajun redhead confirmed.

"How are you planning to do that?" Rimmer asked his grandmother.  "The simulants have sworn to kill all humans.  If they board and then see us alive, they'll start shooting us immediately."

"Not if we play dead," Rory stated.  "We could shut off e'ryt'ing save fo' life support at de first hit we take from dem."

"How are you supposing we do that?" Lister asked her.  "They'll use their sensors to find that we are still alive and then board our vessel."

"Lister, don' be a gimboid," the Cajun told him while trying to ignore the ever-increasing pain in her head.  "You have demonstrated dat you have de pow'r t'use rationale.  T'ink why don't you?"

Dave was about throwing a snappy come-back at her, but the mechanoid spoke-up before he could respond. 

"What I think Miss Rory is trying to tell us, Sirs, is that our best chance for survival is to remain in our seats unmoving while they try to decipher as to whether or not we are actually dead," he said.  "Then we'll take them by surprise when they least expect it."

Aurora nodded her head while absently rubbing her left temple.  "Oui," she confirmed.  "J'em regretter dat I can' come up whid somt'in' bedder, but dat' de only solution."

The Cat – who had been quiet the whole time- placed the hand mirror down in his lap and then spoke-up.  "What if it doesn't work, Flaming-Hair?" he asked sceptically.  "Blood-red doesn't go to well with coral," he said pointedly while tugging at the collar of his ruffled satin shirt.

Aurora Rimmer looked directly into the feline's eyes.  "Den we up a creek widdout a smeggin' paddle," she said bluntly.  "Now I know it's a mass long-shot, but it's all we got.  De best we can do is pray dat it'll work.  Comprend?"

The Cat shook his head in disbelief and then returned to gawking at himself in the mirror while the red-headed Cajun dropped a box-cutter into his lap and then gave her grandson and Kryten their blades.  When everyone had a sidearm she sat back down at tactical.

"Mister Lister?" Aurora hailed.

"Yes, Ma'am?" Dave responded.

"Take us out of here, s'il vous plaît."

With that, the Starbug lifted off and left Earth's blue sky below her in her search for the orange anomaly that had brought her and it's crew to this time period.


	17. seventeen

Seventeen 

"If I can have your attention, plaît, I'd like t'say a few words befo' lift-off," she announced.  When the Cajun was certain that everyone's eyes on her she continued.

"Kryten has done tol' me dat in returning to yo' time it is very possible dat we might/could be t'rown into a battle with little o' non possibility of survival.  I have devised a few tricks dat could possibly up de anti in our favour, should our opposition try to board us."

The redhead demonstrated by quickly pulling out a butterfly dagger and with only using one hand, flipping the blade out and then grasping the handle in full-attack mode, all within the blink of an eye.  Satisfied that she had gotten the point across, she refolded her weapon in the same manner.  "I found dis in de munitions cabinet," she explained as she tossed it to Lister, who caught it in turn.  "Dey are several more where dat came from, an' I'll be handin' dem out before we take off."

David gave the blade his close inspection.  "How is this supposed to defend us from the simulants?" he asked in a baffled tone.  "They have weapons built into their systems."

"We need to have de element of surprise on our side," Rory explained.  "Dat mean we need a concealable weapon wid us.  We can keep bazookoids by our sides, but dey are easily spotted an' we can be boarded an' have 'em confiscated faster den you can blink, I guarantee it."

"What are you proposing that we should do, Ma'am?" Kryten asked thoughtfully.  "Catch them unawares and then slice through their optic cables?"

"Exactement," the Cajun redhead confirmed.

"How are you planning to do that?" Rimmer asked his grandmother.  "The simulants have sworn to kill all humans.  If they board and then see us alive, they'll start shooting us immediately."

"Not if we play dead," Rory stated.  "We could shut off e'ryt'ing save fo' life support at de first hit we take from dem."

"How are you supposing we do that?" Lister asked her.  "They'll use their sensors to find that we are still alive and then board our vessel."

"Lister, don' be a gimboid," the Cajun told him while trying to ignore the ever-increasing pain in her head.  "You have demonstrated dat you have de pow'r t'use rationale.  T'ink why don't you?"

Dave was about throwing a snappy come-back at her, but the mechanoid spoke-up before he could respond. 

"What I think Miss Rory is trying to tell us, Sirs, is that our best chance for survival is to remain in our seats unmoving while they try to decipher as to whether or not we are actually dead," he said.  "Then we'll take them by surprise when they least expect it."

Aurora nodded her head while absently rubbing her left temple.  "Oui," she confirmed.  "J'em regretter dat I can' come up whid somt'in' bedder, but dat' de only solution."

The Cat – who had been quiet the whole- placed the hand mirror down in his lap and then spoke-up.  "What it doesn't work, Flaming-Hair?" he asked sceptically.  "Blood-red doesn't go to well with coral," he said pointedly while tugging at the collar of his ruffled satin shirt.

Aurora Rimmer looked directly into the feline's eyes.  "Den we up a creek widdout a smeggin' paddle," she said bluntly.  "Now I know it's a mass long-shot, but it's all we got.  De best we can do is pray dat it'll work.  Comprend?"

The Cat shook his head in disbelief and then returned to gawking at himself in the mirror while the red-headed Cajun dropped a box-cutter into his lap and then gave her grandson and Kryten their blades.  When everyone had a sidearm she sat back down at tactical.

"Mister Lister?" Aurora hailed.

"Yes, Ma'am?" Dave responded.

"Take us out of here, s'il vous plaît."

With that, the Starbug lifted off and left Earth's blue sky below her in her search for the orange anomaly that had brought her and it's crew to this time period.


	18. eighteen

Eighteen 

Starbug shook wildly as she was sucked into the time-hole.  Lister and the Cat held steady grips on their steering-columns to get through unscathed while the rest of the crew held tight to their seats.  The ride was tough, but what lie ahead of it was much tougher.

Rory, having never experienced riding through any sort of anomaly like this before, had grown more ashen than her normal self.  She distracted herself by focussing on awaited her at the end of the ride.  She knew in her heart that this was to be her final moment to prove herself to her father, although he would not be around to witness it.  This would be her one final mission.


	19. nineteen

Nineteen 

The last two simulants that were still functioning were needles to say annoyed as they watched their target get swallowed up by the orange anomaly and then close.  They were surprised when a new time-hole opened behind them a few seconds later and then spit out their prey into view once more.  The rickety-abused ship gave it's all in pursuing the Starbug once more and then fired upon it.

The crew only shook a little bit as the simulants' photon torpedo grazed Starbug's hull.  "Why didn't it hit us?"  Lister asked in amazement as everyone began shutting down all nonessential systems.

"Their navigation must have been knocked-out in the last encounter, Sir," Kryten remarked as he switched-off the lights. "Perhaps we might have been lucky enough to have rattled their sensors, as well."

"With a bit of luck they'll think that we died during impact," Rimmer commented hopefully before finally clamming-up.

Not a single syllable was uttered as the crew waited for the enemy to board their vessel.  To risk being heard at the wrong time would jeopardise the entire defence and no-one was entirely certain that is was really going to work.  Tension began to grow as each anticipating second passed.

After what seemed like hours, two forms coalesced in the centre of the cockpit, a male and a female.  With her eyes closed and her left hand poised on her weapon, Rory held her breath as she waited in near-darkness for the visitors to act.

"They must be unconscious," the female one commented with a sandpapery and almost-masculine voice as she looked around the room.  

"If we finish them off now, they won't know what hit them," the male said sinisterly.  The female placed the barrel of her weapon arm on Rory's heart.

At that same moment she was taken by surprise as her prey jumped up and slashed at her with a two-inch-long butterfly knife.  The Cajun sliced a plastic tube that led directly into the base of her opponent's skull.  

With no connection between head and body, the cyborg fell into a useless heap and began convulsing on the floor.  In the blink of an eye her comrade aimed his weapon on the redhead and hit her squarely in the bowels.  

Rimmer leapt to his feat and caught his grandmother before she could hit the ground as the others jumped the final intruder.  While his comrades sliced at the second visitor's optic cables,  the hologram ducked and huddled his indestructible hard-light image over the tiny Cajun to keep her safe until Kryten could provide medical attention.  Within a minute, the battle was completely over.


	20. twenty

Twenty 

Rory laid still on the floor of the cockpit as her grandson hunched over her, grateful that her brain hadn't crapped-out on her when she decided to act.  The tiny Cajun put a hand on the large first-degree burn that was on her abdomen as she replayed her moment of glory in her mind.  She was in shock and didn't feel any pain from her wound, but she knew that du morte would soon come for her.

When the battle calmed, the hologram straightened his tall and wiry form into a sitting position beside his grandmother.  When he looked at her to see that she was still conscious he managed a frightened smile.  "In a few minutes, Kryten can fix you up, Grand-mere," he told her, not wanting to face facts.

Rory smiled as she calmly shook her head.  "Qui-non, Chéri," she whispered as she took her grandson's hand.  "It is my time for absolution.  De only t'ing I can do now is hope dat God has forgiven me, de way dat I have forgiven him."

Rimmer squeezed his grandmother's hand as he shook his head.  He didn't want to hear these words, but he also knew that it was pointless to argue.  The only thing he could do was wait until Kryten could have a look at her.

When the last simulant's lifeless body stopped jerking around, Kryten, Lister and the Cat looked around the dimly-lit room.  "Is everyone alright?" Lister asked out of concern.

Rimmer looked at his grandmother and then to his crewmates.  "Grand-mère is hurt," he declared.  "She's been hit in the abdomen, but she's still conscious."

The mechanoid quickly grabbed the med-kit by the entrance and then kneeled on the floor next to his patient.  Opening the box he dawned a portable medi-scan and began running it over the tiny Cajun to take a closer look at her injury.

"Her large and small intestines have been baked," Kryten announced dismally.  "There isn't much hope, if any at all, Sirs."

"Is there nothing you can do for her then?" the space bum asked in disbelief.

The android shrugged and then shook his head.  "If we were still on Red Dwarf we'd have a better chance of prolonging her life, but we are on a ship with a severely limited medical facility.  The best we can do for her is make her comfortable, perhaps give her something for the pain."

"Non calmant!" Aurora weakly said in dismay.  "I need t'face du morte sober."

The mechanoid gave his patient an unsettled look as he patted her shoulder.  "As you wish, Madame," he told her mournfully before standing up to go find some ironing or wash to do as a means for distraction from the tragedy ahead.

Rimmer squeezed his grandmother's hand.  He didn't know if he should just admire her bravery or to just yell at the unfairness of the situation.  He had known her for only twenty-eight hours.  That was twenty-eight hours longer than  the time he had with her as a boy, but it was still not long enough.  All he could do was wish for the power to make things right.


	21. twentyone

Twenty-One 

After a few minutes of watching his bunkmate squeeze the fallen heroine's hand and sulk, Lister sat down on the floor next to them.  He took off his jacket and then rolled it up.  "You still with us, Rory?" he asked.

"Oui, Ami," she replied in a barely audible tone.  "Fo' now, at least."

"You mean you ain't dead, yet?" the Cat asked dismally.  "I was hoping I could take your boots and keep 'em for my own."

Dave rolled his eyes back and shook his head at his friend's comment.  Trying to ignore it he asked, "Do you want to use this to prop your head," while offering his jacket to the mortally-wounded Cajun.

Aurora got a whiff of the smell coming from it and stifled the urge to cough.  "No t'anks," she politely declined.

"You sure?"

The redhead nodded.

Shrugging, Lister put it back on.  "Suit yourself, then," he said offhandedly.

After a painstaking period of silence Arnold looked into his grandmother's eyes and asked, "Are you scared?"  He remembered how frightened he was when his life ended, and he saw how little fear was revealed by his Cajun ancestor.  He had to know if this was a ruse.

"Of course I am scared, Cher," Rory admitted.  "It's foolishment not t'be."

"How can you be so calm, then?" Lister asked out of curiosity.

"De only thang I… can do is accept it," Aurora answer while beginning to sound short-of-breath.  "Dey ain't… not'in' else I can do."

"Do you have any regrets, Grand-mère?" Rimmer asked.  "That you have to die now, I mean."

Rory nodded.  "Wid seeing… you… I do," she admitted.  "I now know dat… de consequences… of my death… span over… deux generations.  It is… more dan a… great in… injustice dat… I have to… I have to go.  If I… were alive in… in de time dat… dat Aaron was…" she stopped and winced at the pain as it finally became noticeable and then continued.  "…dat Aaron was… smacking you… around… I would have… the… the mind to… to kick his… to kick his ass.  You should… let a.. chil'… be… a chil'."

Rimmer nodded his understanding of what he heard as an alarming concern overwhelmed him.  His grandmother was growing deadly-white and clammier.  The hardest thing about this was that there was nothing to be done to save her and he knew it.

Rory had grown quiet.  Having noticed, Lister called for her attention.  "Still with us?" he asked in an alarmed tone.

The Cajun redhead slowly managed a nod.  After taking in some air she whispered, "I see it," and then grew totally silent.  A second later, Rimmer noticed that she wasn't squeezing his hand anymore.

"Grand-mère?" he hailed with alarm.

She didn't respond.  Her pain was finally over.

Rimmer listened to see if (by some odd chance) his grandmother was still breathing.

Not a sound came from her lungs.

Tears streamed down the hologram's face as silently released sobs overcame him.  Although Lister had nothing but dislike for him, his first response was to wrap his arms around his bunkmate and try to console him.

"Rimmer, I'm sorry, man," he said out of sincerity.  That was all that he could say without fear of breaking down and crying, himself.  He may not have got off on the right foot with her, but he knew that, had she lived, they would have been great allies.


	22. twentytwo

Twenty-Two 

"…Aurora Janvier Rimmer was my grandmother," Rimmer said from behind the pulpit while trying not to shed tears again.  "Her career with the space corps was short-lived, but that didn't stop her from achieving greatness…"

The eulogy was short and to the point.  Something that they were certain that she would have wanted, as blunt as she was.  When her body was sent out into space the song that was played in the background was Smash-Mouth's, "All-Star."  After that they had the traditional Louisiana wake: the biggest, loudest party that they could throw with whatever meagre things were available.  The only problem was that no-one really felt like celebrating… save for the Cat.

The feline was on the dance floor dancing by himself while Rimmer sat in the corner and reflected upon the events that had taken place within the last 48 hrs.  While deep in thought he was interrupted by the Cat's ramblings.

"What I don't get is how a weasel-faced smeghead like you could possibly be related to someone as beautiful as she was, Flared Nostrils," he said.  "Are you sure you aren't adopted?"

Rimmer (who would normally have a snappy come-back) just shook his head in dismissal manner.  The drain of what had taken place a few hours ago had just knocked the desire to fight out of him.  The best he could do was just sit there and try not to start bawling again.  Luckily, his bunkmate was able to distract him.

David, carrying a beer, approached the hologram and then put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, man?" he asked his dead bunkmate.

Arnold Rimmer shrugged.  "I'm doing as well as one could expect, I suppose," he said in an unsure tone.  "Not everyone can state that a loved-one was taken from them twice."

Lister nodded his agreement as he sat down next to him and then took a swig from his lager.  After swallowing he stated, "You did get an opportunity that I have only been able to dream about."

The hologram looked into his bunkmate's eyes, baffled.  "What do you mean?" he asked.

"You got the chance to actually meet her," the unwashed one explained.  "I'd give anything to be able to go back in time to meet my parents.  Most people are never given that option."

The hologram nodded his head in agreement, although the words didn't really provide any comfort.  

"It was a beautiful eulogy that you gave," Kryten told Rimmer  while still teary-eyed.  "There's only one question that is left unanswered, Sir.  You didn't include her final words.  Just what exactly were they."

Arnold Rimmer shrugged his shoulders and then shook his head before he answered.  "They were, 'I see it'," he said in a bemused tone.

"That was it?" Kryten asked, sounding just as baffled as the one who had delivered the message.  "To what was she referring to?"

Lister and Rimmer both shrugged.  "We don't know," Lister stated.  "She had trailed-off when talking to us.  I asked her if she was still with us.  She nodded and said, 'I see it.'  The next thing we knew, she was gone."

The mechanoid shrugged and then acted as though a light had been shone in his direction.  "Perhaps she was talking about the light at the end of a tunnel that most people who've had near-death experiences have described.  That is what one would surmise, Sir."

The others had to nod in agreement for it was an answer that made sense.  The only thing that they could hope for was that she had made it safely to the other end.

Author's Notes 

Dear Brave Readers,

I wrote this scenario as an exercise to try out my acting skills and I was curious to see what it would be like if Rimmer had a Cajun ancestor.  I even recorded some mp3 files to go with it, but the links won't work on this site.  Oh, well.  It was rather fun recording them, anyway.

I must note that getting the notes for the Cajun dialect was a proverbial pain because it's a dying language.  I mean, yeah it's spoken these days, but there's been massive discouragement against it in the last twenty-five or so years.  To find someone under the age of thirty who is totally fluent is a très rare find, indeed.  

There are still some very strong die-hards who do speak it, however, and some of them have actually been to university. The worst trouble was in knowing where to find those ruddy notes.  When I finally got them I had to work from what little info I had because the only way to actually learn the language is to be a student at Louisiana State university.  I used my knowledge of the French-Canadian vocabulary to fill in the blanks and the rest is history.  

Thanks For Taking the time to Read My Nonsense,

Sena Kathryn Schneider


End file.
